Strange Circumstances
by ASF13957
Summary: This is an odd story set during the second movie, 'Aliens', after Hudson is dragged under the floor by the aliens.  It involves Hudson and Burke and shoes.  AU, most likely.  Warning for quite appalling language.  Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

This is the first fanfiction story I've written that isn't in the Harry Potter fandom. As such, it's far from my best work - adjusting to writing in a completely different universe has thrown me for a loop, and I'm writing it as a oneshot with chapters for convenience only, so the chapter endings are rather abrupt. Nevertheless, I can tell you that it is amazingly fun to write. Hopefully it is a least a little bit fun to read.

Rating explanation: M for an astonishing amount of very bad language. It also has some violence and gore, but only at a T level really.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to anything _Aliens_-specific. Sob.

* * *

They stared at the motion detector as the clump of lights moved all too quickly closer.

"Twelve meters," Hudson said, his voice strained with a combination of nerves and adrenaline. "Eleven. Ten."

"Then they're right on us," Vasquez commented, her voice tense but level.

"Nine meters," Hudson continued.

"Remember – short, controlled bursts," Hicks reminded the marines quietly. Burke glanced at Gorman, who was standing beside him with his gaze fixed on the motion detector.

"Eight meters," Hudson went on. "Seven. Six."

"Can't be, that's inside the room," Ripley muttered.

"It's reading right, man, look!" Hudson said, his voice rising.

"Well you're not reading it right," Hicks replied, but Hudson shook his head, continuing to stare with increasing consternation at the motion detector.

Burke looked around quickly, staring at every shadow in the room as if he expected an alien to burst out at any second. While intellectually he knew there was no way that one could have gotten into the room without their noticing it, he was on the edge of completely panicking and his mind wasn't being totally logical at the moment.

"Five meters, man… four… what the hell!" Hudson exclaimed, his eyes popping slightly. Hicks seemed to realize something, and getting up on a cabinet, he raised one of the ceiling tiles and stuck his head through the gap, looking around with the help of a flashlight.

A second later he dropped back to the floor and opened fire on the ceiling. Yelling, Hudson joined in, along with Vasquez. Aliens were breaking through the ceiling, and as the marines held them off with bursts of machine gun fire, Burke lost it and ran towards the door that led to the medical lab. Locking it behind him, he backed up across the room to another door, jumping when he backed into a stack of boxes. He hesitated for a split second as he heard Ripley pounding on the door he'd just come through and calling for him to open it. Also just discernable in the distance was Hudson's voice, which seemed to be screaming for Hicks to do something or other.

Burke continued on into the next room, locking the second door as he did so. He felt a moment's relief at the thought that the marines would almost certainly not make it out alive, much less get off the planet and report his actions. While the plan of getting Newt and Ripley impregnated with the aliens had been indirectly sanctioned by the corporation (they had said to get some specimens back by any means necessary), he was entirely aware that should the events on LV-426 become publicly known, Weyland-Yutani would deny any involvement, and he'd doubtless have to take all of the blame himself – not a prospect he found particularly desirable.

Sliding open the next door, Burke froze as a dark shape emerged from the shadows on the other side of it. He recovered almost at once, but before he could actually move or otherwise try to evade the alien, its tail swept around and hit him directly in the chest, knocking him violently back into the door. He heard a crack, and a sharp pain shot through his right side. The alien leapt at him again, and he managed to yell just once before his head slammed against the floor and he passed out.

Burke woke up slowly and looked around dazedly for a minute or two. He was stuck in a very tight space, held there by tough, stiff strands of what appeared to be some type of secretion. With a jolt of fear he realized where he must be, and he stared around frantically, looking for any sign of an alien nearby. He didn't see any, but close to where he was trapped there was a large, leathery egg. As he watched, it began to move slightly, as whatever was inside (and he could guess all too easily what that was) shifted around and started to emerge.

With a strangled sort of yelp, Burke tried to snap some of the strands of secretion holding him in place. They didn't so much as stretch. However, as he shifted a hand slightly, trying to get a grip on the edge of one of the strands, he felt the zipper of the vest he was wearing. It was made out of metal, and was fairly sharp. Managing to hold on to it with the tips of his fingers, he moved it up and down as much as he could. Gradually, it began to saw through one of the strands.

The egg moved again, and the strange slits at the top seemed to come open slightly. Burke's breathing was fast and uneven as he continued to try and cut through the secreted substance that was trapping him. His hand was shaking so much that he dropped the zipper twice.

The strand he'd been sawing at broke, and he managed to get the rest of the substance off just as the egg fell open and a facehugger alien leapt out of it at him. Trying to run backwards in order to evade it, he tripped on the irregular floor and fell over. The alien's spring carried it over top of him, and before it could turn around and attack him again he kicked it into a wall and then stomped on it repeatedly. It made a funny squeaking sort of noise and went still. Burke stepped back from it and then immediately fell over again, this time because of a burning pain in his foot. He realized that in the process of stomping on the alien, he had broken through some part of its skin or exoskeleton or whatever it was and gotten some of its acid blood on his shoe. He tore the shoe off and flung it away, following it with his sock. Only a very small amount of acid had gotten through both the shoe and the sock, and it stopped burning after just a few seconds, leaving a painful but not disabling injury on the side of his foot.

He got up, leaning on the wall, and surveyed the surroundings. They were not encouraging; the walls were covered by a dark, organic-looking material and that, combined with the dim light, made everywhere look pretty much the same.

As he tried to decide what to do, he heard someone yelling from a short distance off to the left. The voice had a familiar, slightly ridiculous tone, and Burke recognized it as unmistakably belonging to Hudson. He hesitated for a moment before limping off in the direction the yelling had come from.

Turning a corner, he saw Hudson stuck in a situation virtually identical to the one he had been in recently. However, the large leathery egg that lay near where the marine was trapped was not moving at all. It was still closed, as well, so he gathered that Hudson was not yet impregnated with an alien.

The marine paused in yelling, and noticed Burke standing across the room. "What the fuck're you doing here, man?" Without waiting for an answer, Hudson went on, "Get me outta here! One of those _things _is gonna come out of that egg thing any second, man!"

"How do I know you won't shoot me as soon as you're out?" Burke asked, looking warily at the pistol attached to Hudson's belt, just out of reach of the marine's hand.

"No way, man, I need someone behind me when I'm running from those things," Hudson protested, before giving a short, hysterical laugh. Burke nodded, thinking that Hudson definitely had a point. He walked over and broke some of the strands of secretion holding the marine in place, and Hudson immediately started thrashing around, breaking the rest of the strands and sending some pieces of the stuff flying into Burke's eye.

Hudson shot several times at the leathery egg. It broke, and the facehugger inside slid out, clearly dead. Burke was annoyed that Hudson had wasted so many bullets, but he was too busy trying to get a fairly sharp piece of alien secretion out of his eye to comment.

"What the fuck are we gonna do now, man? Where's the others?" Hudson asked, rotating on the spot a few times as if expecting Ripley, Hicks, and the rest to suddenly appear out of thin air.

Burke managed to get the irritating fragment out of his eye and replied, "I don't know, they're probably dead. We should try to get over to where Bishop is bringing the drop-ship down, that's our only way out of here."

Hudson stared at him, breathing hard, before glancing at his watch and groaning. "There's not enough time to get to Bishop! This whole place is gonna blow and we're right in the middle of it. We are in deep shit now, man…"

"Okay." Burke covered his eyes with his hand for a moment. "Okay, well what about a basement, there has to be something like that."

"Yeah? And how're we supposed to get there? I don't know if you've noticed, but there's _two _of use and about a _thousand _badass aliens. And we have one handgun with limited ammo." Hudson seemed to be hyperventilating, and his voice had risen to something resembling a scream.

"I don't know, alright?" Burke yelled. "Just shut up, Hudson, okay? You're a marine. I'm a civilian. Why are you the one panicking here?"

"Because you're fuckin' crazy, man," Hudson shouted back at him, stepping forward in an aggressive manner so that Burke had to back up to the wall. "Besides, you're not exactly staying calm and collected here yourself."

"Maybe, but at least I'm trying to figure out what to do!"

"Why don't we ask the aliens nicely if they'll just step aside and let us get to the basement? Huh? How about that, pal? Or why don't we just send them a goddamn invitation card?"

"That doesn't even make sense!" Burke shrieked.

"Yeah, I know! I wasn't fuckin' finished, I was gonna say why don't… wait… fuck, I don't remember."

Burke groaned and slid down the wall, resting his head in his hands. "You've totally lost it, haven't you? It just had to be you who ended up down here. We are going to die."

"I don't think so, man. No _way_ am I letting those things take _me _out."

"Just a second ago you were being completely fatalistic," Burke said in a muffled voice.

"Yeah, well, you can stay here if you want, but I'm getting my ass to the basement." Hudson's footsteps receded down the passageway. Slightly shocked by how quickly the marine's attitude had done a total 180º, Burke stayed where he was for a minute before pulling himself up on the wall and limping off after Hudson. He caught up with the other man at a fork in the passage. Hudson was staring alternately right and left, apparently unable to decide which way to go.

"We don't have much time. Just try one or the other," Burke suggested.

"I know we don't. That's the problem, man, if I don't pick the right one we're screwed!"

The marine seemed on the verge of freaking out again, and Burke noted that this was presumably why Hudson had not been in a position of command in the corps; he appeared to have a great amount of trouble making decisions, particularly under stressful circumstances.

"Let's go right," Burke said, and walked in that direction. Hudson followed him and then sped up and pushed past.

"Don't want those things coming up behind me," he mumbled.

"Yeah, it's lucky you're stuck with me instead of Hicks or someone you actually want to keep alive," Burke observed. "Or would you just act the same way? You know, I've noticed you care a whole lot about your own life. You didn't even seem that upset when I told you the others didn't make it."

Hudson stopped dead in his tracks. He stood in complete stillness for a moment before spinning around with a hoarse sort of yell and slamming Burke into the wall. "Fuck you, man, don't even _try_ to say I didn't care about Hicks! Or Vasquez, or Drake, or Frost, or any of the others! What about Ripley, huh? What about the kid? You think I wanted them to kick it? Hell, even _Gorman_ was – fuck, don't say that. Just… fuck. Don't."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt that strongly about it," Burke told the marine, holding up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. His right side hurt quite a lot, and he guessed that he had a broken rib and also that Hudson had just jammed it into a panel on the wall. The marine glared at him a minute longer, with what were either tears or droplets of sweat gathering in his eyes. Burke suspected the latter.

They continued down the passage, and Hudson gave a whoop of joy as a flight of stairs, leading downward, appeared off to one side. Burke looked at them somewhat suspiciously, trying to determine whether they actually did lead to a basement – he wasn't entirely certain that he and Hudson were on the first floor. The stairs were closed in by walls, however, unlike those that led from level to level above ground, and there was no sign of light emanating from the stairwell.

They started down the relatively long staircase, and Burke cursed quietly as the sharp metal of the steps irritated his injured foot. Hudson, jumping and immediately looking around to see what the problem was, noticed that Burke was only wearing one shoe.

"What the fuck, man?" he asked, staring in confusion at his companion.

"Some of the acid from the aliens' blood got on it," Burke explained. "The stairs are not comfortable."

"Put your other shoe on that foot," Hudson suggested.

Burke shot him an annoyed glance. "It's the wrong shape; it would be almost as uncomfortable as the stairs. Besides, I get the feeling this isn't the time to be worried about… you know, about footwear. We should get moving."

"Fuckin' A," Hudson muttered in reply, turning and continuing down the stairs. Burke limped after him.

At the bottom of the staircase was a long, grimy passage with doors set into the walls at intervals. Hudson stopped in front of a particularly sturdy-looking door and stood against the wall across from it, aiming his pistol at the center.

"You're gonna have to open the door, man. I'll shoot anything that comes through it."

Burke stared incredulously at him. "Yeah, sure. What if there's a xenomorph right on the other side of it, huh? Even if you manage to shoot in time we'll both get sprayed with acid."

"A xeno-what?"

"An alien."

"Well why the fuck didn't you just _say _that, man?"

Burke rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Look, you have to admit I have a point."

Hudson nodded a few times. Then he moved down the hallway so that he was standing at an angle from the door, a much safer distance away.

"That still doesn't help me," Burke pointed out.

"Whatever, man. Just open the door."

Abruptly, an alarm sounded throughout the basement, causing both men to jump. After regaining his composure and briefly considering the pros and cons of being killed by an alien versus being blown to smithereens when the complex exploded, Burke mentally shrugged and took hold of the door handle.

"Okay. Okay, I'm going to open it," he warned the marine. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he counted to three in his head and then pushed the door open, jumping backward and to the side immediately afterward.

Nothing happened. After a few seconds, Hudson approached the doorway, cautiously, aiming his gun in front of him. Burke followed a few steps behind him.

The room beyond the door was small and dim, lit only by the light from the hall. A few metal shelves, supporting what appeared to be mainly spare light bulbs, lined the walls. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all cement. No sounds came from the room. The only noise audible was the alarm sounding at intervals in the background.

Hudson slowly let out the breath he'd been holding and entered the room. He got out a flashlight and turned it on as Burke shut and locked the door behind them. The beam illuminated the room fairly well, but it left a number of rather ominous shadows in the corners and behind the shelves.

Burke limped over to one set of shelves and attempted to slide it across the floor, in order to place it in front of the door. It didn't move, and on closer inspection he found that it was bolted to the walls and floor.

"There's nothing we can put against the door," he informed Hudson.

"Well that's just… fuck. Will the room hold?"

"I don't know, it might if it's reinforced. If it's just cement…"

"I don't like those chances, man."

"They're the best ones available."

Hudson shook his head, muttering, and then walked over and sat down with his back against the wall furthest from the door. After inspecting all the shelves to ensure that none of them were movable, Burke joined him. The alarm continued to sound.

"Hey," said Hudson after a few moments. "How'd you get here, anyway? I mean, last thing I remember was getting dragged under the floor by those _things_ and then I hit my head on some goddamn beam or something. No one else was dead, man."

"Oh… yeah…" Burke replied vaguely. This, he thought, was awkward. "Well, there was an alien in the passageway that they were heading down. Actually there was probably more than one."

"Maybe they got past them, though!" Hudson's eyes lit up. "They might still be alive, man! Hicks and Vasquez are pretty badass when things get rough, and Ripley's fuckin' amazing for a civilian."

"I don't think it worked out that way. One of the doors was locked."

"No it wasn't, I went through those doors earlier."

"Well it got locked later," Burke replied shortly. Hudson looked at him with growing suspicion, but before the marine could say anything there was a deafening bang from somewhere above them. Pieces of cement rained down from the ceiling, and most of the light bulbs on the shelves fell off and smashed apart. Burke was jolted around as the entire room shook, and his head collided painfully with Hudson's. Amazingly, the marine was yelling loudly enough to be heard over the sounds of the explosions and breaking glass.

This chaotic situation lasted for what was in reality about a minute or two, but which seemed much longer to the two men in the basement room. Finally, the tremors died down, and everything went still. It was probably silent as well, but Burke couldn't confirm this because his ears were ringing at an alarmingly loud pitch.

Hudson slowly picked up the flashlight from where he had dropped it on the floor and shone it around the room. The floor was covered in broken glass and pieces of debris from the ceiling and walls. The center of the door was bowed in, but it had stayed firmly in its frame. Most of the shelves were warped due to the walls moving around.

* * *

I did warn you all it ended abruptly. I should have the next chapter up within a week or so. The choice of characters is rather bizarre, I know, but hey! Why not? Anyway, I hope this didn't bore you to tears, and of course I'd appreciate it if you'd review - even if all you have to say is that tears of boredom are now clouding up your eyes and preventing you from reading any more fanfiction.


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, next not-really-chapter. I'm not sure that I'm writing Hudson's dialogue realistically - I've never written any considerable quantity of swearing before. Oh well.

* * *

Burke pulled a few small shards of glass out of his hands and brushed more glass and a large quantity of cement dust off his hair. He felt a rather sharp pain in his foot, and discovered that what seemed like half a light bulb had become embedded in it. Starting to pull on it, he felt suddenly dizzy and leaned back against the wall.

"Hudson, can you give me a hand here?" he asked once the feeling had passed somewhat. The marine, who was currently trying to get rid of the glass that had stuck into his armor, didn't look around. "Hudson? Hello?" No response was forthcoming, and Hudson moved on to the glass in his arms. Burke reached over and shook the other man's shoulder.

Hudson turned around and opened his mouth, but although it was obvious he was speaking, Burke couldn't hear anything.

"Ah. Looks like the blast's made us temporarily deaf," Burke said, hoping that perhaps Hudson could read lips. Apparently this was not the case, he decided, as the marine stared at him in confusion. With a sigh, he gestured at the large piece of glass stuck in his foot.

Hudson reached over and abruptly yanked it out. Burke yelled inaudibly and punched the marine in the shoulder, and then shut his eyes and lay back against the wall, waiting for the dizziness that had resulted from Hudson's unexpectedly hasty aid to go away, and for his hearing to come back.

A number of minutes passed before Burke became aware of a faint noise. He opened his eyes and saw that Hudson was muttering something.

"Hey," he said. The marine, who had been taking inventory of his rather scant supply of pistol ammunition, looked around.

"What was that about, man?"

"What?"

"You hit me."

"Yeah." There was a pause. Burke could just make out Hudson's words, although the marine was talking in a normal tone – he guessed that it would take quite a lot longer before the effects of the explosion wore off completely.

"Sorry," he said eventually.

"Whatever. So what're we supposed to do now? The whole fuckin' _complex_ is totally wasted. No way was Bishop waiting around for us, man, I mean, he probably thinks we got blown up too."

"You're probably right. We should try to figure out how to get out of here ourselves. You know, there are probably other basement rooms that weren't affected by the blast either. Maybe something in one of them could help us."

Hudson nodded in agreement, but then went a funny pale color. "Hey… if there's more rooms, how do we know some of those aliens didn't make it too? Huh? What if they know we're here and they're coming to get us right now? How the fuck are we supposed to get rid of them with one gun, man? Huh?"

"Well – look, okay, let's just take it easy for a second. I don't think the xenomorphs are capable of opening doors. Of course, they could probably break _through _the door… Never mind. There has to be some way to transmit a distress signal. Even if the colony's long-range transmitters are broken, we ought to be able to fix them, or maybe there are backups. There might be spare parts in one of the other rooms." Burke attempted to stand up and walk decisively towards the door, but the pain in his foot caused him to collapse before he'd even managed to straighten up completely. "I need a shoe," he informed Hudson.

"Yeah, well, I'll just give you the shoe I always carry around in my pocket," the marine replied irritably.

"Can you give me one of yours?"

Hudson held up one of his feet. On the bottom of the boot there was a muck-encrusted number '6'. "I don't think they're big enough, man."

"No, they're not. You know, this is bizarre, this whole situation."

"Yeah, like I didn't know that? Fuck. What do we do?"

"Well… It seems like the colonists used the basement rooms for storage. Maybe they kept some shoes in one of them. You could go look."

"What, go out there? With aliens all over the place? I'm not stupid, man…"

"We don't know for sure that any aliens survived."

"We don't fuckin' know they _didn't_."

"You have a point, but unless you want to carry me all over the complex, we're going to have to find a shoe."

"I don't know, man. You were gonna sabotage the cryotubes, _and _you let those fuckin' alien face-things out with Ripley and the kid, why shouldn't I just leave you here? Don't have an answer for that one, huh?"

"Yes, I do, I'm just trying to figure out a way to phrase it that isn't insulting."

"What the hell're you talking about?"

"Fine, if you want me to tell you – Hudson, to put it bluntly, I'm the brains of this operation."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"No offense, but you don't have the best decision-making skills. I know you don't like me, and you know, that's okay, but if you want to get out of here you're probably going to need my help. I mean, do you even know how to fix a transmitter if we find one?"

"No, but I could figure it out. Do you know how to?"

"I don't, but a few years ago I was on a ship, the transmitter broke, and I watched the crew fix it. So, it's pretty likely I'd have a better chance than you. If we work together, we should be able to get it working. Assuming we find a transmitter."

Hudson was silent.

"Well?"

"Whatever, man." The marine sighed and stood up. "Right. I'll go… I'll go look for some."

"Thanks," Burke replied, slightly surprised that Hudson had both comprehended and agreed with his argument. "I'll lock the door behind you. When you come back, don't just knock, actually say something so I'll know it's you, okay?"

"Yeah." Hudson swallowed and unnecessarily checked his pistol to ensure it was loaded. He helped Burke over to the door and then unlocked it, taking a deep breath. He placed his hand on the door handle and then paused.

"Hang on, what about the radiation?"

"There isn't any. That wasn't a nuclear explosion, it was just the cooling systems malfunctioning. There might be a lot of smoke, but that should be all."

"Right." With no further hesitation, Hudson yanked open the door. The passage outside was deserted. Large chunks of cement from the ceiling and walls littered the floor, and the air was filled with smoke and dust. Hudson coughed and then stepped out into the passage, shutting the door behind him. Burke, who was sitting against the wall beside the door, reached up and turned the lock.

Hudson's footsteps faded into the distance, and the basement room was completely silent. It was dark as well, as Hudson had taken the flashlight with him when he departed. The only light was a small line against the floor, where the central part of the bottom of the door had pulled up slightly due to the explosion. The dim, grayish light shining from this gap glinted off a piece of broken glass on the floor.

Several minutes passed. Even though Hudson hadn't been gone very long, Burke found himself becoming rather nervous. He wished that someone more reliable had survived instead of Hudson – maybe Hicks or Vasquez. No, not them, they wouldn't require his help and would most likely have shot him on the spot. Maybe Ripley, then.

He wondered how much time had passed. Of course, there was no way to know how long it would take Hudson either to find some shoes or to give up and come back, but still. He held his breath and didn't move at all for a few moments, listening for any sort of sound outside the room – Hudson's returning footsteps or a surviving alien. There was no sound of any sort, however.

More time went by. At last, Burke heard hurried footsteps in the hallway, and then Hudson's voice, sounding hushed and nervous and oddly guilty, came from outside the room.

"It's me, man. Let me in."

Burke felt around in the dark for the lock, turning it once he located it, and the marine immediately entered the room, shutting the door hastily and locking it. He was carrying a pair of shoes and the flashlight in one hand, and the pistol in the other.

Hudson wordlessly handed the shoes to Burke, who nodded and put them on, making sure to tie up his injured foot with his remaining sock first.

"Did you find anything else? Weapons, or something we can use to send a message?"

The marine shook his head. He did not look at Burke.

"Hudson? What's going on?"

"We're out of ammo," Hudson muttered, almost too quietly to hear. For a second, Burke thought he _hadn't_ heard correctly.

"What?"

"We're out of ammo," the marine repeated, more loudly. "I used it up. Every last goddamn bullet."

"So – wait, hang on – there are still aliens out there?"

"No."

"Then what –"

"I got a little jumpy, alright?" Hudson finally looked up. His face was flushed and his expression was somewhere between angry and embarrassed. Burke shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He really, really wanted to scream at Hudson and possibly hit the marine with his old shoe, but figured this would not be a wise idea. After all, he was fairly certain that Hudson would consider using up all the ammunition a rather less severe transgression than effectively killing a number of people by locking them behind a door along with numerous bloodthirsty aliens. Figuring that out, in addition to remembering his earlier intentions to sabotage the cryotubes and transport aliens back to Gateway inside of Ripley and Newt, and his instructing the colonists to check out the ship which had originally held the alien eggs, would probably cause Hudson to become a lot less embarrassed and a lot more angry. It was best not to remind him of it.

"Okay, why don't you just tell me what happened. From the beginning."

"I went down the hallway and checked in the rooms with open doors. There's a bunch of different shit in the rooms down here, man. I saw plumbing tools, books, canned vegetables, you name it. Most of it was pretty busted up from the explosion. I'm not gonna be able to look at spinach the same way again.

"Didn't see any shoes off this hallway, so I went down another one leading off it. I turned a corner and something moved, so I shot it, of course, what the fuck was I supposed to do? It was just a piece of cement falling off the ceiling, though. I looked in a bunch more rooms, and stuff kept moving at me, so… Found these in a room with a load of some sort of suits and shit, maybe for the outside before it was terraformed. Some of the stuff looked like it was for later on, like for making gardens or whatever. I came back, but we don't have any more ammo. I didn't see a single fuckin' gun anywhere."

"Great."

"Well what the fuck would you have done, man?" Hudson was getting defensive. "If it was aliens I wouldn't have had time to check them out, they would have gotten me if I tried to."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't take a genius to tell a falling piece of concrete from an alien." Burke knew that he was being slightly unreasonable, and also more than slightly unwise, but the fact that he and Hudson were now alone and unarmed in a complex that was quite possibly inundated with aliens was really bothering him. In fact, he thought it would not be an exaggeration to say it was actually upsetting him rather a lot.

"It was dark!" Hudson protested.

"Dark? You had a flashlight! I was sitting here the whole time you were gone, wondering whether you were coming back, or whether you'd leave without me, or whether you were dead and some xenomorph was going to break through that door. Not that I'm blaming you, of course, you've only gone through extensive training so you can stay calm in this kind of situation."

"Shut up! At least I got you your shoes, man!"

"Yeah, they're making me really thrilled right now! I don't mind dying in excruciating pain as long as I've got a pair of shoes!"

"You think you're happy? I'm fuckin' overjoyed that we don't have any weapons, 'cause all that 'extensive training' you're talking about? I don't know if you realized this, but it didn't involve giant fuckin' aliens dropping outta the ceiling!"

Burke started to reply and then abruptly stopped. He stared at the shards of glass on the floor for a while. Eventually, he said, "Hudson? This isn't working. I don't think we're getting out of here."

"Yeah, well, that makes me happy too. I haven't been this fuckin' joyous in years."

"I'm not being sarcastic. Really, I don't think we can do this. I mean, even if there aren't any aliens left, we probably won't be able to make a transmitter, at least not without killing each other."

Hudson didn't reply for a moment; then he said, "Well, maybe it's good I used up all the ammo, then."

Burke smiled faintly. "Maybe. Look, if we're not making it out of here, why don't we at least stop yelling at each other? I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend my time arguing."

"I guess. Whatever."

"What should we do?"

"You're asking me? I thought you said that that was your job."

"I know. It was just a question. If you don't know then that's… it's fine. It's just that I don't know what to do either."

"Well." Hudson stared around the room as if hoping the walls would give him inspiration. "Why don't we look for transmitter parts?" he suggested presently. "Hey, if we're lucky, we'll find some guns on the way."

"Okay." Burke stood up, wincing slightly at the pain in his foot, and opened the door. The hallway outside was just as empty as the last time they'd seen it.

Slowly and very cautiously, the two men made their way back towards the stairs. The staircase had collapsed, but it had not blocked the stairwell. They could see a dim , colorless light filtering down through the dust and smoke that filled the air – apparently, the roof of the complex had collapsed. Hudson kicked at the broken stairs, which lay on the floor twisted out of shape by the force of the explosion, before turning around and heading the other way.

They passed the rooms Hudson had described earlier. As they continued further down the hallway, Burke found it difficult to distract himself from his foot, which was hurting quite a lot, and also his ribs, at least one of which he had decided was definitely broken. He tried mentally reciting lines of poetry and the multiplication table, but that didn't work

"So, when _were _you really happy, recently?" he asked Hudson. He wasn't really interested, but listening to Hudson would give him something to concentrate on.

"What?"

"Back in the room, you were being sarcastic, you said you were really happy, because of the situation? So, what was the last time you remember being especially happy?"

Hudson thought for a while. "I guess it was last mission. We went to this colony, to help sort out a dispute they were having, and there was this fuckin' awesome girl there."

"What was her name?"

"Sophie." Burke was alarmed to see the marine's eyes grow slightly misty. "Man, she was one date I'll remember for a while. I took her out to this bar, and later –"

"Er, Hudson?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't need to hear the details, thanks."

"Oh."

"She sounds really nice." This wasn't particularly the case, as Hudson had in fact said very little about the amazing Sophie, but Burke thought it was prudent to end the conversation there.

"What about you?" the marine inquired.

"What about me?"

"You know, man, when was the last time you went out with someone? Assuming you ever went out with someone."

"That was a little tactless."

"That's my middle name."

"Right. Well I went out with a woman named Angela when I was in college."

"Yeah? Where's she now?"

"She's… hang on…" Burke did some mental calculations. "Yeah, she's dead."

"Oh. Well that sucks."

"No, I mean, it wasn't unexpected or anything. We'd already ended the relationship, I was going off to a station that was pretty far away… so, I was in cryosleep for a few years, and then I went on a few more trips, so by now, if she was alive, she'd be somewhere around a hundred and eighty."

"Unless she spent some time in cryosleep too."

"I didn't think of that." Burke considered the possibilities of Hudson's theory. "I don't think so. She'd just gotten a job she was really fond of."

"Sure, but you never know."

"I guess not." He shrugged, and then pointed into a room slightly ahead and on the right side of the hallway. "Hey, look over there, is that some kind of transmitting equipment?"

Hudson stepped into the room and shone his flashlight on the dark, unidentified mound it contained. There were several long, thin shapes sticking out from it, which the marine supposed might be wires or metal poles. As the beam of the flashlight illuminated the mound, however, it became clear that this was not transmitting equipment. It was, in fact, an alien.

With a yell, Hudson automatically reached for his pistol and started firing it at the alien. As it contained no ammunition, this did not prove very helpful. The marine turned and raced off down the passage, knocking Burke over as he did so. The empty pistol dropped unheeded onto the floor.

Burke scrambled up and was about to take off after Hudson when he noticed something very unusual, given the situation: he wasn't dead yet. Earlier, back before the locked-door incident, he'd seen just how fast the aliens could move. The alien inside the room should definitely have reached him, and possibly Hudson as well, by this time.

Fighting the impulse to forget about all this information and just get away as fast as possible, Burke looked back into the room. The lighting was dim, but he could immediately see that apart from initially snarling and shifting around a bit, the alien had not moved. It was currently lurking in the back of the room, making menacing sounds and whipping its tail about violently.

"Hudson?" Burke called. The name came out as a somewhat hoarse squeak, so he cleared his throat and tried again.

There was no response for a minute, and then Hudson cautiously returned down the passageway. He was holding a long pole with what seemed to be a spigot on the end. Presumably he had gotten this from the room with the terraforming gear.

"Where's the alien, man?" he asked, his voice tense with nerves.

"It's in the room. I think it might be hurt."

Hudson peered through the doorway. "Whoah. You're right." He walked carefully closer to the alien, making sure to stay out of range of its tail. It hissed at him.

The marine put the pole with the spigot, which Burke had now deduced was supposed to plug onto the end of a hose, onto the floor. He stepped on the spigot end until it flattened, and then folded it over by kicking at it. Then he stepped on it again, creating a sharp, roughly triangular point.

"Got any ethical objections to sending this thing straight to hell?"

"Not really."

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna do it anyway."

Hudson grasped the very end of the pole and, taking careful aim, half threw and half stabbed it at the alien. The crushed spigot bent a little, but then it slid between two sections of the creature's carapace. A stream of acidic blood flowed out, sending up clouds of smoke as it burnt into the floor. Hudson retreated back to the door as the alien thrashed a few more times and then went still.

Burke expected the marine to make some victorious, most probably vulgar comment, but instead he just stood there, staring at the dead alien. Eventually, without turning around, he spoke.

"You remember when we were coming down to the planet?"

"Yeah," Burke replied, slightly nonplussed.

"I was talking to Ripley, you know, telling her about all the weapons and shit we were carrying. I said something about sharp sticks."

"Yeah…"

"Everyone that was there is dead now except you and me. Every last goddamn one of them." Hudson walked over to a large piece of cement at the edge of the room and sat down on it. He dropped the pole with the spigot and stared blankly at it as it lay on the floor. Burke really had no idea what to say.

* * *

There we are. I know that this chapter ended on a vaguely depressing note, but I am not turning this into an angst-fic. And really... Hudson-angst? I don't think so, man. Anyway. I should have the next one up within a week or two. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, whether they be positive or negative.


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